


Round Peg, Round Hole

by cero_ate



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, BDSM, Bondage, Breathplay, D/s, Explicit Sex, F/M, Flogging, M/M, Multi, Toys, dubcon, noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 04:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 21,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cero_ate/pseuds/cero_ate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a alternate world where people are trained to be pleasure slaves, what chance do the trainees of the recently created brothel Enterprise have to save the Federation from the ravages of the Warlord Nero</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO MUCH to my wonderful betas, cheerleaders, reference guides. I could not have done this fic without all of your help. Thank you Pervyficgirl and Darkdanc3r for helping me with the BDSM parts, sullacat, Pervyficgirl, and winterover for betaing this big fic for me, and thank you to the gang at Kirkhouse and pervyficgirl for endless handholding and cheerleading. Please also check out the wonderful fanmix made for me by sullacat and the awesome fanart created by shinychimera over

There was a hierarchy amongst slave trainers in the Federation just as there was one amongst slaves themselves. Slaves who had been trained by the top of the line trainers in their fields were always valued at more than what a slave who'd been house-trained were valued.  Sadly, most slave trainers concentrated purely on one aspect of their slaves without consideration for other abilities. For slaves skilled in the art of battle and little else, you went to the gladiatorial pits where Admiral Komack trained slaves to hack and slash and live for the fight. When you wished the most intelligent slave you went to Amanda Grayson. But when you wanted a slave skilled in multiple arts, you went to Pike.

When you owned a Pike you owned a slave who could bring you pleasure simply by watching them. The highest-end Pike slaves were trained for various types of unique talents, as well as well as those of the bedroom.. Pike was also known for being able to take troublesome slaves and turn them into creatures worth their weight in phelbotinum. Pike was a intelligent businessman for this reason; after all, what use was a pleasure slave once they were no longer pleasing? Pike didn't like wastefulness.  Every slave knew  if they were purchased by Pike, they were the cream of the crop. Or at least, they would become that way.

Pike did not do all the training or selecting for his stable of trainees. He had helpers.

Dr. Phillip Boyce was their healer. He was skilled in many types of medicine since he had been a battlefield medic. He and Pike had come through the legions together. He alone could even bring Pike himself to heel. The man was an oddity-grown and virile, yet owning no slaves or wife. It was rumored he had had a wife once but she died. That happened often when one was in the army.

The woman known simply as Number One was Pike's field agent. She scouted for slaves who were likely suspects for Pike's stable of trainees. After all, Pike didn't take just anyone. Only a select few were suitable for his methods and talents. Most slaves were too soft, others too hard, yet others weren't interested in the pleasures of the flesh at all.  She sorted through the dross of everyday offerings to find the precious pearls which would shine in the right settings.

The latest to join Pike's crew of trainers was not the slave Spock as he had assumed, but the dark skinned woman acquired with Spock. The woman known only as Uhura had proven adept as a pleasure slave and looked to be just as good at training others for pleasuring the female flesh. She excelled at communicating with a wide range of people, as well-educated as Pike could hope for. It made sense; she had belonged to the headman of a conquered nation. While they were militarily weak, they did seem to have valued education highly. However, she'd proven too volatile for the Lady Amanda to keep as highly prized secretary, just as Amanda's own illegitimate son Spock was too temperamental to make a proper scribe.

There were other, lesser trainers, but those three, in addition to Pike, trained the top tier of slaves for the good of all. Slaves would be trained for years before Pike would even consider selling them, and he never sold one that wasn't going to a proper owner.  Pike hated having his training wasted on someone who had money but no brains or class. He also retained the right to rebuy them if they were not handled properly.  If they were being abused or misused, allowed to run wild with no discipline, each contract included a right-to-buy clause allowing Pike to take him or her back. Everyone knew that, and Pike exercised that right when necessary.

Spock was currently Pike's pet project. He had been given to Pike alone by the Lady Amanda, a gift in return for some re-training Amanda's favorite pet,Sarek, received. Amanda's illegitimate son by Sarek was well favored but..difficult. Spock thought highly of himself, being the son of a trainer, and Amanda had found him very difficult to handle. But she wanted the best for him, and the best was Pike’s careful handling. Thus she gave him to Pike in return for Pike’s help with her problem.

Pike knew you shouldn’t train your own children. It was basic common sense. Emotions got in the way, and with Spock already feuding with his father over the staid life expected of a scribe’s son, it was far better for all parties involved to separate them.

Acquiring Nyota had just been a hidden bonus.

Unfortunately at the moment his stables were looking emptier than usual. It was the start of a new acquisition season, and he’d finished training his latest group of slaves and released them out into the world. It always stung a little, wondering if he’d have to reacquire any of them due to mishandling. But he couldn’t concentrate on that while he was considering his newest purchases. The past was in the past, and he was looking to expand his stables. He was also considering putting together his first public house, staffed with only his finest and that meant he needed to acquire the finest yet again. It wouldn’t be hard for him to do so.

He envisioned a place someone could go to acquire one of the slaves for a short period of time and then release them. Or perhaps train them to work as a team. He wasn’t sure exactly how he wanted it. It would be interesting to train them to work in teams; some people did like that. Most harem slaves were jealous creatures, hating the infringement of their pleasure by other slaves. Could he train them to the become the perfect standard of pleasure he required while still managing to teach them the skills to work with each other? Time would tell.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim didn't respond to the whip across his back except with a grin of fierce enjoyment. No one knew if he really felt that way, but he was good at pretending even if he didn't. Earlier that morning a group of four of the guards had decided his slender strength was something they needed to test. Poor bastards lost the fight of course, and were taking it out on him that they sucked worse than a monkey with a pile of shit to fling as far as fighting against a mere slave like  Jim was concerned. Wasn't like Jim cared about being beaten except he was tired of being on short rations. No one yet could handle him, despite many trying. He knew just how to get resold whenever he was getting bored. Unfortunately he also wound up whipped to hell and back whenever his so-called masters decided to get rid of his stubborn ass. Maybe he'd play nice with his next owner long enough to get some decent food before he got bored and wandered off again. For some reason, masters hated it when he wandered away, despite the fact they all knew what they were acquiring when they got him. He might be the son of George Kirk, but none of them was a Robau.

Just when he was ready to pass out from the pain [despite his best efforts], he heard a sharp whistle cut through the cheering of the crowd. Bastards always did like watching a good whipping. Jim wondered what dumb schmuck had decided to ruin their fun but he couldn't be fucked to really care at the moment. Right now the cessation of pain was more than enough to let him droop down and half-pass out. He'd give a shit later. Right now he didn't have the energy.

His latest master had begun to realize that while Jim had a famous name, he was piss-hard to sell. Not only because half of the city had already owned or tasted his ass, but because Jim himself couldn't be bothered to exhibit himself to please anyone, and all the whippings that he'd allowed to happen only showed Jim as a difficult slave, untameable. Few wanted to bother with an uncontrollable slut when they could have one that was eager to suck their cocks, all soft and doe-eyed at the prospect. Jim hadn't managed to look excited about sucking his master's cock since he was fifteen with his second owner.

His inner musings were interrupted by the guards finally having the brains to release him from the stocks. Jim sat up slowly, knowing better than to sit up fast after a whipping by now. He could feel the blood running down his back, and caked to his face and knuckles from the fight that had earned him the punishment. It'd been a good fight, too. He loved to fight and had thought about trying for Komack's stable but something about just living by fighting didn't really appeal to him. None of the high end stables appealed to him, and he wouldn't settle for a low-end.

Oh well, not like he’d appeal to anyone now. From the feel of his body he’d had the skin flayed from his back again, he had a shiner, possibly broke his nose again, and definitely split his lip. Not to mention split his knuckles again as the feeling of liquid oozing down his hands attested. Been far too long since he’d brawled if he was splitting his knuckles on a guard’s soft face. The broad had been hot though, the one he’d been talking to. Dark skinned, long hair, curved just right. She looked like sex incarnate and he would have loved to find out just how good she was. Too bad he didn’t even get her first name before the guards  took exception to his methods. Uhura was a damned fine name though and Jim wondered who owned her. He might try to get bought by whoever it was just so he and Uhura could sneak around the idiot master’s place and have some off-site fun. Masters were rarely smart enough to figure out that their slaves could put out for not only them but each other, without getting knocked up. After all, they didn’t have the same access to healers that masters did. Jim hadn’t knocked up a girl but once, three years ago, and that had been the biggest mistake he’d ever made. Carol had been sold as soon as she’d started showing. He didn’t even know if the kid had survived or what it turned out to be.

But that was an old pain, like the others he didn’t bother to think about. Old pains were just that, old, and he didn’t carry any more baggage than he had to. Carrying extra baggage was for slaves who thought they were free 'cause they liked their owners, their overseers. Jim had no use for those broken slaves. They bored him.  

Jim wasn’t really aware of anything beyond himself until he looked around to find the bar clear and realised there was something cool dripping onto his back, numbing it. He wondered what dumbass decided he was worth some of the good shit. And it was the good shit. He’d been whipped enough to know the difference. It made his back a puddle of numbness and he couldn’t even feel the blood anymore until it dripped down onto his legs and congealed there. He drifted in a happy painless place for a little while until the whistler intruded on his cone of silence.  Handsome, older guy,a bit of greying at the temples, definitely looked virile, and from the clothing, a Master, not a slave. Jim would wonder about him slumming at the slave bar, but he didn’t really care enough about Masters to do that at the moment.

“I couldn’t believe it when the barkeep told me who you were,” the older man said.

“Who am I?” Jim questioned. Oh gods above and below, if this was another fanboy of his father he was going to puke on the dumbass' shoes. Oh...wait, the dumbass got him a drink. Maybe he’d not. Free drinks were never anything to be turned down though he wondered what the end cost of it would be. Nothing in life was ever free.

“You’re Jim Kirk. George Kirk’s kid,” the guy said. “And I’m Chris Pike.”

“Should this mean something to me?” Jim asked, not betraying the fact he knew that Chris Pike was one of the top trainers in the world. He wondered why Pike was here. Didn’t he know Jim was untrainable?

“From what I’ve heard you’re the most talented slave never to be trained,” Chris commented. “Sixteen owners in the past four years. Your father managed to save an entire legion of men, serving Robau.”

“I’m not my father,” Jim said dismissively.

“No, you could be better. With the training I could offer you...but I’ll only take you if you’re willing to commit yourself,” Pike said. “You could be magnificent.”

“I am magnificent,” Jim told him firmly. He was too.

“No, you’re above average,” Chris said. Jim looked at him for the first time, meeting his eyes. “I dare you to do better.”


	3. Chapter 3

Leonard stared up at the stars. He wasn’t sure why he was contemplating the offer he’d received earlier. Leonard wasn’t even sure why he’d been offered anything. He’d been sold by his family after completing his duty of fathering an heir as to maintain their lavish standard of living. A son with Leonard’s peccadilloes was the most disposable as well as highest earning, due to his training.

Training, of course, that had failed him. Failed his father. Why would his family want to keep a son who no longer was a viable asset in the alliance game, had done his duty in creating an heir, had the bad taste to say exactly what was on his mind, and not to mention, despite being trained as a doctor, and accredited as a miracle worker, could not save his own father? What use was he? His own wife had run off on him, the family had been required to return her dowry as well as lost control of their Joanna. Said heir would grow up with more loyalty to her mother’s family than to the one she would inherit everything from.

Between the rising debts for Leonard’s useless education, the dowry’s return, the medical costs of his father’s long painful illness, and then the lavish funeral his family had put on to maintain their status, it was only too obvious they would have to quietly dispose of a family member. Leonard hadn’t put up more than a minimal fight when they’d come to take him away. He deserved it, after all. Deserved it after his utter failure to be a credit to his family.

And now - to receive an offer like the one he had? On the one hand...Leonard didn’t see any of the potential the older man had claimed he had, claimed he saw in Leonard. On the other hand, to be trained by Pike. Leonard would be able to send his part of the purchase price to his family, to continue to support them. Later, when he was sold after training, he’d earn top dollar and be able to send that money back as well. His family had disowned him, but he still owed them, owed them everything he was or could be.

Leonard felt it was his fault he hadn’t been able to do anything besides supply the means to the end for his father. Without his failure...He bowed his head, and sighed. What choice did he really have? He had none. His body was already being sold, at least this would put off the truth of the matter until later. He would survive, of course, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy. In his heart of hearts, he was terrified both terrified of who would buy him and terrified of what would happen to him. He hadn’t been born to slavery, wasn’t hardened to it. He knew his family treated their slaves well, but he’d heard stories, seen public whippings in the square,and  knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut either. Any owners would consider his belligerence grounds for discipline. Leonard had hated it when his father took him ‘round back and switched his ass for  his smart mouth as a child, he didn’t think it would have changed in the years since then.

So really, despite his terror at using his body that way, at what was going to happen during his training...Leonard really had no choice. He would have to take the older man up on his offer of training. He’d learn to be a pleasure slave, and nothing more, perverting the gift of the gods for intimacy into nothing more than unemotional fucking.  Skilled unemotional fucking, to be sure, but still, Leonard didn’t believe he’d ever find anyone who owned him that would want anything more than that from him.. Otherwise they’d get married, not fuck a slave.

He was grateful so far for the alcohol before showings, a ritual for the newly enslaved. His family had given him their best whiskey. It blunted the nerves and let him act looser. He had to impress these people. He probably wouldn’t have caught the man’s eye otherwise. He just...wished it could be different. He wished he could be the old country doctor he’d always planned on being, with a passel of kids and a loving wife. Not stuck in this cell with only the stars visible  out a tiny-ass little window. There was no breeze, and the smell of human effluvia penetrated into the very pores of the bricks he was lying on. No bed, of course, since only already proven slaves got beds. He was nothing more than anyone else, despite his training, training he was no longer licensed to practice using.  

And perhaps, that was what stung the most. Leonard loved being a doctor and he had a feeling, despite the man’s talk of this being a new way to heal hurts and fix ills, that Pike was full of absolute shit. Leonard knew he was too old to be a good whore, no matter what the man saw anyway.  Too old, too broken, and too mule-headed to be anything but what he was and this was going to fail miserably.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim showed up at the  transportation hub with a wary look on his face. He still wasn’t sure whether he was making the right decisions, but hell, at least the next time he was sold he’d get a pretty penny for himself. Besides, it sounded like he’d get lots of sex, and he could use that right now. So sex with pretty people, maybe even that foxy woman he was talking to earlier, and earning himself a nice chunk of change for a treat later. He could do that.

Getting in the carriage, Jim smiled cockily. He could do this. He wouldn’t show what he was really thinking, his trepidation about this whole thing. Spotting an empty seat , Jim sat down, looking around curiously, studying his competition - say whatever you wanted, but they were his competition to becoming worth the most money he could be sold for and the best ass he could get. He wanted something more than what he had. The old man’s speech had woken something up inside him. He didn’t care, that would be too much, but he would like to be something better than a bar brawling slave. He wanted to command top dollar deep down and he knew he was worth it.

He watched in interest as an overseer pushed a man out of the bathroom, the man swearing at him the entire way. He seemed a little nervous when he sat down next to Jim.

“I may throw up on you,” the man said grumpily.

“You wouldn’t be the first person to do that,” Jim responded good-naturedly. “Jim. Jim Kirk.”

“McCoy,” the other man said, taking a swig from a flask of something that he’d taken from his pocket.. “Leonard McCoy.” He offered the flask to Jim, and Jim’s opinion of him was automatically heightened. Anyone willing to share their booze with him was alright in Jim’s book - and after the sip, he was even more sure that the man was alright. The booze was top grade. Good  man...Or stupid, hoping he could buy favors. But he didn’t look stupid, so Jim was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He actually was kind of hot in a stubbly and unkempt kind of way; like a back-woodsman actually. It was really more attractive the more Jim studied him. Suddenly he came out of his observations and realized the man was talking.

“All kinds of diseases, make you burn, itch, tingle, make your balls fall off...” McCoy continued his rant.

“If you don’t like what we’re going to learn, why are you joining?” Jim asked curiously. Really; if he was so worried about picking up those things, he was going into the wrong career.

“Ex-wife took everything in the divorce but my bones,” Leonard responded languidly. “This way at least I’ll have something for my daughter to inherit.”

That made sense. Why some people went into slavery, after all, was to provide for their families. Needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one and all that. Too bad Jim hadn’t had that choice. You were stuck with whatever your lowest-ranking parent was at the time of your birth, so Jim was a slave. His brother had been too, until he’d run away. Last Jim had heard, George Jr. was a pirate, and a bloody good one at that. He wished his brother wouldn’t do things that were going to get him killed in the end, but that was his decision and not Jim’s. He realized he should respond to the other man. “I get it.”

The other man was looking oddly at his face. Jim frowned, then remembered that while his back had been taken care of, his front had not. He had a black eye, and generally looked like he’d been put through the wringer.

“Did you win?” Leonard finally asked.

“No, not really,” Jim responded. “Didn’t have a chance to begin with. But I gave it my best.”

“Why fight if you know you aren’t going to win?” Leonard asked curiously. Jim knew it didn’t make sense to former freemen why slaves would fight when they never would win anyway. But then, citizens were sheltered folks, with their little games instead of a life filled with risks. Slaves had to take chance or they’d become nothing more than what their masters really wanted.

“Slaves don’t win, Bones.” Jim settled for telling him some home truths. He ignored the other man’s odd look at the nickname. “We’re always going to lose in the end. But we can’t just give up and stop fighting, or we become nothing more than what they think we are.”

“If you’re not going to win, there’s no point in getting your ass beat,” Bones countered. Jim decided he liked the nickname of Bones for the man. Seemed to be all his head was made of, anyway. Oh, well - he’d learn. Jim would even protect him until he did learn. It was the least he could do, to keep him from being ground too far down. The other man already looked like life had spit him out after chewing him up pretty bad already.

Soon enough the carriage stopped, and they were separated for the moment. Jim doubted they’d keep the two of them separate for good, so he just waved to the other man with a brash grin. Balls and sass, that’s what he had to show these guys - balls and sass. That way they wouldn’t be surprised later when Jim proved untrainable.

“Kirk?” A servant called and Jim swaggered up to him. “Follow me.”

No please, of course. Slaves didn’t rate pleases. Jim followed the other man into a  sumptuous room filled with a table and all sorts of food, including a glass of liquor. Jim was usually a beer or whiskey person, but if it was free, he was interested. He sat down, drank the liquor first, then started eating- and by the time he was done,he was starting to feel loose and giggly. Damn. It must have been drugged. He knew he should care, but it felt amazing.He felt really good, and Every touch of the stylists made him hum in appreciation. They made him tingle.

He leaned into the touches as he was stripped down, content to luxuriate in them as he was scrubbed. Their ministrations made him feel sensitive all over, and his cock rose half hard. The attendants seemed to be paying particular attention to his cock. It was a good one. He knew exactly how to use it to bring people off. He was good at that skill. That’s why he was picked by Pike. For once, though, he didn’t feel like letting anyone and everyone know that.

This drug was apparently really good. He probably would have told them he tended to have weird reactions to druggings but they hadn’t asked. It probably wasn’t important since he wasn’t gasping and having that kind of an allergic reaction anyway.

He didn’t like it as much when they tied him up without his telling them they could.  It was rude. As well as when they started to pick at his cock with tweezers. It kind of hurt at first but the drugs made him not care about that, Eventually, Jim realized they were pulling every last pubic hair out That was weird. He wondered why the hell they’d wanted to do that to him. His cock looked really weird without the hair, and even odder was when they they were plucking out all the hairs all over his body. He wouldn’t have any hair left if they kept doing that.

Slowly, in his drugged haze,  he came to the realization that that was exactly what they wanted. They didn’t want him to have hair. They should have asked before modifying his body like this even if all he could have done was say yes. It wasn’t fair. Even if it felt good. But since he couldn’t change it now, he felt himself slowly abandoning his need to control everything, letting himself drift into their control, just feeling the sensations, unbothered, unneeded. His last consciously controlled thought was a hope that he wouldn’t look ugly afterwards. That would suck. He didn’t even become aware where they put his cock in a cock cage, or even when they finally left him in his room. Thanks to the state the drugs plus their handling put him in, all he could do was drift on the leftover sensations, shaking slightly as he felt overloaded with no way to get out.


	5. Chapter 5

Bones was absolutely dripping with sweat after he’d gone through the examinations they required. He’d been poked and prodded, and then turned over to a ‘stylist’ for the most invasive procedures he could imagine. They’d taken a pair of tweezers and decimated the hair on his private parts, pulled off every last one, and then coated him in some liquid to prevent them from growing back. He felt naked. He wasn’t actually naked, thankfully, allowed a small loincloth now. It barely covered his bits, front or back. Nothing like what he was used to wearing as a citizen. Just another symbol of everything he’d lost since he went into slavery. They’d left the hair on his chest, said some customers liked that. It wasn’t as bad as he’d figured, as far as the physical examination was concerned, but then they turned him over to the kind-eyed doctor.

And that’s where he’d really had to strut his stuff. The doctor asked him question after question, drilling him on every bit of knowledge he’d ever known, and some things he'd forgotten. Leonard had to remember details he hadn’t studied since his apprenticeships. Some of the subjects he’d forgotten learning since his school days. The questions had been asked int he most deceptively gentle tones he could imagine.

He didn’t even know why they were asking. It wasn’t like he’d ever get to use it again. Slaves didn’t get to be healers. Slaves were slaves and healers were healers. He had to resign himself to that, no matter how much it broke his heart. Maybe sometimes slaves could be healer’s to other slaves...maybe that’s what they were hoping he’d do, save them the cost of a real healer’s bill. He could do that. It was better than nothing after all. Or at least, until now Leonard had  thought he was, losing himself in the last of his good booze.

After the man had drilled him on every bit of knowledge he’d ever claimed to remember from medical school the other doctor had pulled him up and gently pressed him towards the bed. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the fact that his main duty in life was going to be a bed warmer to someone who paid money for him, but the other Doctor had taken his time with Leonard.

Taken too much time really. Leonard had gotten a bit snarly, and started to push. He was fine with taking one’s time, but he had no tolerance for sitting around when you were supposed to be doing something. He’d started to order the other man around, and when he didn’t get punished for it, he took charge completely. He figured it was the last time he’d ever be allowed to do that and it felt good. He hadn’t ordered Jocelyn around much, not that she would have let him. She was as take charge in the bedroom as he was. It was sometimes fun, but mostly draining.

Leonard  did wonder why the other doctor had pussy-footed around the sex part. He figured it was a combination of evaluation of his skills, and Leonard’s last chance to have some real fun. Leonard doubted he would ever have fun as some other man’s little catamite. He’d felt raw from the stripping, and almost  vulnerable from the questioning but he hadn’t let that stop him from  trying to impress the other man with his knowledge and skills.

Despite everything, he did like sex after all, and getting to take care of the other man,  salved his wounded heart. He enjoyed as he took on the more dominate roll, and he reached an interesting state where he was alert and yet relaxed. He’d never had that with Jocelyn, only dimly remembering that state from his pre-marital relationships. Leonard  loved when he got to just watch the other man, make sure the doctor, he’d learned his name was Boyce was having fun, and getting what Boyce  needed. It’d been...too long, since Leonard had had that pleasure, and he savored it while he had it.

Between everything, Leonard was almost caught by surprise when his own orgasm  happened upon him, but not quite, because he’d drifted into a state where he was almost hyper-aware of everything that was going on. Everything that happened to him, everything the other man’s body was telling him. He hadn’t felt that alive since he’d done surgery the last time. It was...

“I know ,son, I know.” And Phillip Boyce held him tight while Leonard wept for what he’d lost, as the bleak totality of his situation hit him for the first time.


	6. Chapter 6

Leonard stopped off for a shower before he went to the his designated room. Sharing rooms... you’d think an operation like this would at least spring for singles. It could be worse, and Leonard knew it but still, he hadn’t shared a room with anyone but his wife since he was born. He hadn’t even shared one with anyone during his apprenticeship. He liked his own space, his own way of doing things. He hoped his roommate wouldn’t be a slob. Nothing worse than a messy living area except a messy work area. The two combined would drive him up the wall, and Leonard couldn’t control the work area no matter what they had him doing anymore. That wasn’t something a slave could control, so far as Leonard knew. All this slave stuff was going to be hard to learn, he just knew it.

He was pretty sure though, that whoever was on his bed should not be shaking like that. He looked like little Joanna after a really bad night terror, and Leonard moved before thinking about it, gathering the kid up into his arms, cradling him.. It was that smart ass from the carriage. He wondered what the hell had set him into this state. Whatever happened to him, it definitely wasn’t what had happened to Leonard. It looked somewhat like the same thing, but the kid had no hair anywhere. Bare as a baby's smacked ass. Poor guy had to have been plucked for hours. He wondered how the kid had held still for all of it.

“Shhhh.” Leonard cuddled the kid against him. “Its okay. I’ve got you.” The kid didn’t know him from anyone so he wasn’t sure that reassuring him that way would do any good, but it worked with Joanna, and he couldn’t just leave him like that.

Continuing to hold him and rub his back, Leonard shook his head at the stupidity of whoever had left him that way. The kid smelled like a winehouse and something more.

“I usually don’t even like touching folks like this, kid. You should be grateful,” Bones murmured into the Jim’s hair. But since he had to share a bed with him, he was willing to get the Jim calmed down; then he’d go chew out whoever let the young man go in this state. Even the basest idiot could see this wasn’t a good thing.

Over an hour passed before the kid started to uncurl himself, becoming coherent again, nuzzling against Bones.

“What happened?” Bones asked curiously.

“Drank some wine, things went fuzzy,” the kid, Jim...that was his name, Jim responded.

“Do you have reactions to drugs?” Bones questioned curiously.

“All the damned time,” Jim said. “They tend to act funny in my system. Allergic to half of them. The docs say it’s the circumstances of my birth.” Oh, he was that Jim Kirk. Huh. He’d expected someone...more noble. Less cocky or something.

“Did they ask about that?” Bones asked.

“Course not,” Jim said. “We’re slaves, Bones. Not people, like they are.”

“Don’t call me Bones,” Leonard said. “I’m Leonard. Leonard McCoy.”

“I know,” Jim said.  “But I like Bones better.”

“Don’t think it matters what you like,” Leonard threw the kid’s previous answer back at him.

“Matters to me,” Jim responded with perfect logic. Leonard just rolled his eyes at him.  So childish.

“If you’re a slave and nothing you want matters, then why fight?” Bones asked. “Why not just go along with what people want?”

“Because that’s the way you forgot you’re as human as the pissants who own us,” Jim said firmly. “Because no matter what they think, we do have feelings, wants, whatever. Doesn’t matter to them, of course, but when that’s all you own...”

“Besides whatever you buy whenever you’re sold?” Bones asked, curious about it from a slave’s perspective now that he was one.

“Yeah, but a shit master could take that away. It’s a joke, letting us keep some of the money when we’re sold,” Jim said. “An appeasement. That’s all. I just usually drink and fuck it away. Once I’ve consumed it, they can’t take it away from me.”

“That makes sense,” Leonard allowed. If you were crazy. But then he wasn’t entirely sure the kid wasn’t crazy. Brilliant, but nuts. It would be an experience, living with him, while he found out which one of the two it was. Leonard vaguely hoped it was brilliant, He wasn't sure he was up for a roommate that was insane. But brilliant? Brilliant he could do.

As long as they stopped fucking him up, or drugging him without checking first if he had any odd reactions to drugs. Fucking dumbass idiots in this place. You'd think for the premier training facility in the Federation they would have the smarts to double-check slave files. Leonard knew that shit was left out of slave files all the time, whether through malicious intent or just because they were fucking slaves and if they had a reaction, well - who really gave a shit? Wasn't like the slaves could file a complaint of bad medical practices. They should just be glad they had any medicine at all. Leonard sighed bleekly at the realisation that no one probably cared. Didn't meant he wasn't going to raise hell with the doctor who'd let him fuck him anyway. He seemed smart enough to not fuck up his own investments, or Master Pike's investment anyway. Slaves were expensive investments and until they sold them, they were money out of the bank.


	7. Chapter 7

Nyota strode around Spock, flogger in hand, looking over his well-defined, naked body. He was gorgeous, she had to admit, up on his tip-toes from the suspension bondage. “Alright?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Spock responded instantly. He was so good. She never had to remind him of the rules.

“Can still feel your hands, no tingling?” She pressed her hand against his  back and he leaned into it.

“Yes, Mstress, no tingling,” Spock agreed contentedly.

She smiled at him. “Good. I’m going to put your blindfold on then.” She suited action to words, slipping it over her sub’s head, tying it well in the back. “Can you see?”

“No, Mistress,” Spock responded, his tone going more dreamy as he went under.

She stroked his back. “Good boy.” She knew both of them needed to relax after the day they’d had, processing the recruits. Half or more would fail, but that’s what happened when you wanted only the best. A few might actually succeed. Unfortunately one of them was that obnoxious dark blond. Maybe his roommate, but she wasn’t sure about him. Luckily Dr Boyce had to in process that one. Nyota was sure she’d have to do some of their training,  and just hoped they didn’t get any funny ideas. She might be a slave, but she was ranks above their asses.

Shaking her head, Nyota re-focused on Spock, who deserved her concentration at the moment. She already was feeling the peculiar tense/relaxed state that came from dominating her partner. He was so gorgeous. His breed had an odd greenish tinge to their skins that showed wonderfully when they were flogged, which she intended to do after a bit. She wanted Spock floating before she started on him. She’d debated gagging him but Spock was so quiet by nature that she really wanted to hear him instead.

Nyota walked around him, trailing her hand over his body - not aiming for any spots yet, but watching, fascinated as his cock slowly rose. Only half-hard, but she knew he could come just from the flogging, She'd have to time it very carefully, after all, doing it this way had a higher potential for wrap around. But she was a professional so there would not be any of that, because she would not let there be. She would not hurt Spock like that, she cared about him and her craft far too much.

In control of the devices anyway. She was content with that, content with driving Spock wild. It had been a hard day of work for the both of them, so this time to relax was more than necessary.

She started slowly, working her way up, watching Spock moan and tremble in his bindings until he came. She loved watching Spock come. He was so repressed normally that when he abandoned himself it was amazing. Open, vulnerable, letting himself be seen, almost unwillingly.That was the fun of having someone so utterly controlled normally at her mercy. And she was merciful, carrying on through the orgasm until he hung limp, spent, so beautiful in front of her. She worked herself off just watching him while using the flog with her spare hand.

Disconnecting him from his bindings, she half carried him over to their bed and curled around him, cuddling against him. She liked to cuddle, and Spock appreciated the physical intimacy as he stroked her hair, sighing softly. They never talked much after these sessions, just touched, until he squirmed down to lick her and work her into another orgasm. He was so good with his mouth. She loved watching him get all messy with her juices all over his face, the one thing he still had not mastered being neat about. She stroked her hands through his hair, messing up it’s perfect precision, and murmured un-needed but still desired instructions to him. Spock liked to be told what to do, even if he ignored it sometimes. But that was what punishment was for. Tonight he seemed more interested in bringing her off, over and over and over again. And how could she refuse such generous attentions. He was so good to her.


	8. Chapter 8

Nyota looked at the young man who’d been flirting with her. Master Chris had bought him, so there had to be something to him besides charm that he laid on way too thick. It was up to the trainers to bring it out of him. She didn’t care who his father had been, what had happened at his birth. Right now she cared about finding out what made him tick, and what would happen when she took control of that ticking. To do that she took him to the ‘armory’. Nyota inwardly still smiled whenever she thought about what the other trainees called it. It was the sex-toy room. Every sex toy imaginable was in there, along with some stuff that no one had imagined but it still worked.

Everything from bindings, to paddles, floggers, plugs, candles, everything lay in that small room. Most the trainees would experience most of them, unless they had a true aversion to them, to find out what they liked, if they liked anything. Master Chris didn’t tend to buy anyone he thought was absolutely vanilla. They didn’t fare well in the rarified atmosphere they would be sold into.  Most the folks who bought the slaves were ones who were kinky and it couldn’t be satisfied by their husbands or wives. After all, properly married people didn’t do things like that with each other. It was indecent. She was glad she couldn’t ever get married. That kind of sex bored the crap out of her.

“All of this?” Jim raised his eyebrow trying to not sound overwhelmed.

“Yes.” Nyota nodded. “In between your linguistic classes, fight classes, strategy classes, and whatever else you signed up for, you’ll be learning how each of these can be used. Either through having them used on you, or using them yourself.”

“And they’re all used for sex?” Jim grinned slowly. Why did no one ever tell him about these? He recognized a few of them, but even at the raunchiest sex stores he’d been to, there hadn’t been this variety.

“Some of our more accomplished trainees of the past have aided in manufacturing these. There was a wild Scotsman a few years ago who designed most the devices you see in here,” Nyota explained.

Jim grinned. “Must have been some kind of man, thinking up these things.”

“He was useful,” Nyota said.  “Until he pissed off one of the leaders of the legion. ”Pick what you want to experiment with tonight, maybe two or three items. And then we'll figure out what you're going to train as.”

“Train as?” Jim asked.

“Who you are, what you like, what you absolutely have no interest in,” Nyota responded.

“Well, I like you,” Jiim flirted.

“That's not helpful,” she told him, tone dry as the desert. He laughed in response. “Try what you like as far as toys and other sex additives.”

Jim just laughed and grabbed some toys at random, those that didn't look like they could double as weapons. He was fond of sex just as sex. Didn't see why they'd want toys to complicate a fun process with all sorts of random objects.

“Are you sure?” Nyota questioned, looking at the toys.

“Of course,” Jim grinned engagingly. “What? Doubt my prowess?”

“Yes,” Nyota said immediately. She wasn't there to pander to egos. Especially not when a trainee had one as big as Jim seemed to have. Generally once you knocked that down you figured out what was really inside. And for all the superficiality of a sex slave, you had to be true at the same time you were being false. After all, people could tell past a certain point when you were faking it.

She wasn't sure Jim knew how to not fake it anymore. He was so full of himself. Easily the most arrogant little bastard she'd had to train in her memory. But she'd get him broken. It's what she did.  
~~~  
“Just surrender yourself to it,” Nyota coaxed him. They’d tried half the toys he’d picked out, and he wouldn’t relax. Wouldn’t just surrender himself. He kept catching himself on the edge...it was infuriating. She could see him almost to the edge of sub-space, and then he’d shift himself out somehow. Usually with impertinent remarks or calling out his safeword. Then they’d stop the scene, and try again another day, and it was a week of trying. It was absolutely annoying.

“I’m trying,” Jim scowled, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his caged cock laying limp against him, yet another reminder of his failure.

“Are you really?” Nyota pressed. “Or are you pretending. I’ll know if you really are trying, and you haven’t been.”

“Then what do you think I’m doing, beautiful?” Jim tried to summon some of his cockiness.

“I think you’re refusing to try,” Nyota glared at him. “Go back to your room, we’ll pick up tomorrow. Again.” Failure, after all, was not an option.


	9. Chapter 9

Jim flung himself onto the bed. It was a nice bed, nicer than any he’d had before, since he was old enough to sold out on his own away from his mother.. He didn’t even mind the fact he had to share it with Leonard. Or rather, Bones, since Jim thought he was a bone-head for believing the crap these teachers were training him. Also it turned out Bones had been a saw-bones, before his family decided he was the most expendable expenditure. That just made the nickname all the more appropriate.

But that didn’t matter to him right now, with the fact that he was almost sure he was going to be sold again at any minute. He just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do what they were trying to get him to do. He wanted to, don’t get him wrong. For the first time in his life he actually wanted to do what the trainers were trying to get him to do, abandon himself, let himself just obey their commands, reach the bad place. He just...couldn’t.

Leonard looked up when his roommate flung himself into the room with more dramatics than usual. He’d been studying the texts Boyce had given him, all about the human body and pressure and erotic points. It was interesting stuff, learning for sure what he'd only known instinctively before. After all,  they didn’t teach this kind of stuff in med-school.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Leonard asked, putting down the book he'd been reading, and sitting up on their bed. “You’re messing up my studies.”

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Jim stilled himself.

“Do what?” Leonard knew he had to act as if he was only half listening or the kid would clam up again.  Franky he was surprised he’d gotten this much out of him.

“This whole...thing,” Jim gesticulated. “I can’t get off because of this stupid cock-cage, I can’t reach whatever the fuck state it is they’re talking about...”

“You can. You just don’t trust them enough,” Leonard said firmly. “I bet if it was me, you’d have no problem with any of it.” From his own studies he understood why Jim was afraid to reach that state, after the first taste of it he had had unwittingly with the stylists. He knew that they’d damned near ruined Jim.

“I doubt that,” Jim said defensively.

Leonard wanted to reach over and pet Jim into submission. He looked like a ruffled cat, like they had back home, sitting on the porch, definitely not interested in petting. But those mangy creatures would always look like you were a traitor if you didn’t worship their beauty. He wondered what Jim would think if he shared that.

Better to not. Jim already was ruffled up.

“Then prove it to me,” Bones suggested. “I bet I could help you.”

“I don’t need any help,” Jim said defensively. “This was just an experiment anyway. I don’t need it.”

“Sure kid,” Bones said.

“How would you help anyway? You’re in training same as me,” Jim looked over at him sullenly.

“They’re training me a bit different than you,” Bones said. They were letting him take charge of the scenes, for one.Leonard knew they weren’t letting Jim do that, since he was on an alternate track..The track was a harder one, especially for Jim since it required rebuilding Jim’s all too limited supply of trust. And since they’d left Leonard to clean up their big mistake, it was lower than ever.

But Leonard wanted Jim to succeed. He liked the kid, saw potential for something more than mediocrity there. He was helpful and kind even if he hid it behind his mask of sass and ballsyness.

“So?” Jim questioned. “How are you going to do what they can’t with all their experience?”

“I don’t know. But we can figure it out,” Bones said firmly. He had a few ideas, but they relied on Jim trusting him.

“Why not? It’s not like anything else works right now.” Jim shrugged.

“Then I need to figure out what we’re going to do,” Bones nodded firmly. “Can you make me a list of what they’ve done that you like?”

“Sure, it’s not long though.” Jim shrugged and pulled a piece of paper and pen and ink towards him, starting to write down what Bones had asked for.

~~~

A couple days later, Leonard was ready. He’d reviewed the list, and he hoped he had something that Jim would like, that would get him where he should be. Of course, he knew part of it was that it was him doing this with Jim and not the trainers who, in Leonard's opinion were going about it all wrong. Jim wasn’t someone you could cozen into being friends. He was an angry cat, who you had to gently lure. But...at least this would show Jim he could do it, fall into a properly submissive state,  if it was done right.  Bones didn’t know if he was doing it right, but at least he was going to do it better than anyone else.

He went over the plan one more time in his head, infinite-checking it to make sure he had it perfect. Now all it had to do was survive the engagement and hopefully get Jim to believe in something more than just himself. Jim was an amazingly self-sufficient guy, but if he wanted to get far, he needed to lean on others.

“Ready, Jim?” Bones asked, as Jim entered their bedroom.

“Sure thing. Just wish I could get off, while I’m getting you off,” Jim gestured at his encased cock. He was desperate for a good wanking after a week of it.

“Once I start to tie you up, you aren’t going to answer anything besides yes, or no,” Bones said. “To get me to let you go, say 'sunflower'.” He figured Jim wasn’t in the habit of screaming out that during anything.

“Whatever, Bones,” Jim said. “Let’s just do this so I can prove I’m not what you think I am.” He was willing to indulge Bones his delusions to show him how it was supposed to work. Besides, frankly, the other man was hot and Jim had no objection to a hot man putting his hands all over his body.

Leonard didn’t have on hand any of the outfits others seemed to think was required for this stuff. All he had was himself, his hands, and the few tools he’d managed to sneak out of training. He’d talked hypothetically with Boyce about it, and he was almost certain that this would work.

Leonard moved Jim into the position Leonard wanted Jim in, and started to chain him up. Leonard watched Jim as he moved to each arm, each leg, taking his time, touching Jim, getting Jim used to his touch, his smell around him, more than when they slept together. Bones had it laid out in his mind, but if Jim reacted negatively, the plan would have to change. Jim was a pleasure to touch, smooth and sleekly muscled, tan from his work outdoors, his hair sleek and yet rough. He was beautiful, and the doorway framed him like a perfect painting.

Finally Jim was secured and Leonard was wrapping a soft silken tie around Jim’s big blue eyes. Jim needed to lose himself, not be able to see everything that was going to happen and thus remain above it. “Alright, kid? Yes or no.”

“Yes,” Jim said impatiently. At least he was keeping to the yes or no. That was a good thing.

“Good boy,” Leonard praised him softly.  He picked up the warm wash cloth. Of course Jim wasn’t wearing anything. They weren’t allowed clothes. Just modesty cloths, which is what the trainers called the loin-cloths Leonard still wore. Jim generally went nude which was going to make this even easier. “Just concentrate on the sensations.”

Slowly, Leonard worked the washcloth over Jim’s skin, wetting Jim down all over. He watched Jim slowly start to relax, even more slowly start to lean into the touches. Leonard pressed just a hair more gently, as he did, reminding Jim softly to focus on the sensations, words pitched so Jim would strain to hear them. He wanted Jim thoroughly concentrated on his body. On the wet rivulets slowly making their way down, on the moist cloth tracing everywhere, up his arms, down his legs, over his imprisoned cock, between the crevice of Jim’s ass. Jim looked beautiful, stretched between the door posts, arms up, and legs spread so Leonard had access to everything. Leonard was honored to be able to look upon Jim this intimately.

Bringing Jim to concentrate on himself, and nothing else with touches, with the soft praise, instructions was heady, and Leonard could feel himself slipping to the place where he was hyper-alert to everything.  He could almost see the other man’s thoughts slowing, stillin not going in five hundred places at once, like Jim normally did. Slowly he interspersed the strokes with soft puffs of air on the wet skin, the occasional light kiss, not building a pattern his boy could expect, but nothing harsh, nothing like anything he’d experienced before with the noodle-brains. He watched Jim slow further, following Leonard's instructions without processing them. He rewarded Jim with more kisses, more sensation, more good things, good touches, trying to erase the bad touches.. He wanted Jim to stay down for a while, let Jim fully experience what they called sub-space the right way, before he brought Jim back up out of it.

Eventually, he put the cloth down, and got a device he’d nicked, slicking it with the lubricant and sliding it up Jim. It wasn’t thick, thinner than a finger, with a nob at the end that was perfect for running over a prostate which is exactly what he intended to do with it. He grinned when Jim moaned at the sensation, lost in himself and then grinned harder when he’d found Jim’s prostate and started to milk it, pressing against it repeatedly. He wanted Jim to experience his first non-erection orgasm with him.

And he did achieve it, watching as Jim came, incandescently beautiful, the orgasm roaring through his body. While he was recovering, Bones gently untied him, talking to him the entire time, lead him to the bed, and finally removed the blindfold, talking to him the entire time, telling him exactly what to expect.

He watched as Jim blinked in the sunshine of the late afternoon, and wrapped his arms around Leonard. Jim didn’t seem ready to talk yet but Leonard wouldn’t leave until Jim was back all the way. Jim clung to him, like he had that first disastrous night, and like then, Leonard let him.

“Beautiful, wonderful,” Bones murmured. “You were great, I knew you could do it.” Bones saw Jim smile a little at that, and he kissed Jim’s temple.

“I was, wasn’t it?” Jim finally answered, after a long time clinging to Bones.

“Yeah kid, don’t let it get to your head,”  Leonard smirked a little. Jim smirked back and got up, stretching.

“Now I got to pee.” Jim grinned. Bones snorted and threw the pillow at him.


	10. Chapter 10

Chris hummed appreciatively as Phillip worked over his shoulders, massaging them with his skilled fingers. Doctors and musicians, he swore, had the best hands in the world.  Luckily, his Phillip was both. Phillip played the lute like a dream as well as a half a dozen other instruments, and was as skilled a doctor as he could find, especially when it came to mixing the various medicines they all depended on. It was partially Phillip who made his dream of making the best slave stable  an actual possibility rather than a castle in the sky, after they’d been discharged from the legion. After all the training did often cause injuries, and if Chris had had to pay an outside doctor every time to come in, it’d never have worked. It was rare they could indulge themselves, but with Number One back for a short visit and with Spock and Nyota watching over the trainees, Phillip and Chris had a few hours to themselves. When Phillip had suggested a massage, Chris jumped all over it.

“Better, Sir?” Phillip questioned as he wiped his hands free of the oil Chris liked best. It smelled wonderful, and worked wonders on his sore muscles. Some kind of cool scent while having a deeply penetrating heating ability. Phillip had stumbled upon it by accident. They all needed it fairly often, even with the practice massaging. Sometimes, especially because of the practice massages. Not everyone was as skilled as Phil’s young protege after all, in knowing just what muscles needed each type of pressure. He was glad Chris used his special talent with charisma to seduce McCoy into their midst, despite the doctor's initial reservations. It was relaxing knowing Phil could send McCoy to take care of the minor injuries of the day, rather than having to kiss every bump and bruise himself. Not that either doctor was very good at kissing the bumps and bruises. That only encouraged folks to come to them with even more minor complaints.

“Much, Phillip.” Chris rolled over and held his arms out to Phillip, who curled up in them.  Chris alone knew that the reason that Phillip took no wife, like Chris had not taken one, was because the female body did not excite any interest in Phillip. Unlike Chris, he could not even fake it. There was no getting it up around women, so Phil didn’t even acquire a wife and create progeny. He stayed as Chris’ loyal second in command when Number One wasn’t there to do the job. Which was a lot of the time nowadays being as how Number One  had started roaming again. The woman sure did have a wandering foot, not to mention eye. All to the better for their organization.

“What do you think of the newest crop of youngsters?” Phillip asked, as he fitted himself comfortably in Chris’ arms. The younger man didn’t mind he was inefectual with women, just wanted to hold him and let him be who he was. Phil would have gone crazy without Chris and owed him his life on more than one occasion. But luckily that was in the past. Now he just helped Chris train people to be the best that they could be. Not terribly unlike when they’d been legionnaires together, but there were some differences. Notably they could now buy the best, and the slaves generally didn’t die. Phillip enjoyed that far more. He hated when people ruined his work.

“Still at the potential level,” Chris responded. He’d watched them in training, even though he had yet to take a hand in it himself. He typically didn’t, not until they had a basic understanding of what would be required of them.

“I like them,” Phillip admitted. “That Kirk boy has a lot of fire. My Leonard seems to be helping train him, even as he’s getting trained himself.

“Is that why Kirk’s settled down some? We really need to train the stylists better,” Chris switched topics and looked thunderous. What they’d nearly ruined...he could have killed them. Someone like Kirk didn’t come around every hundred years, and it just took one wrong move to fuck it up and leave him utterly useless, no better than any basic skilled lover coming out of Gaila’s stable. Not that Gaila wasn’t a good trainer; , just, but one went to the Pike stable for something a little more than just ‘good.

“I’m investigating the drug they used, seeing if we can find something a bit better, for known fighters to take, so we don’t have a repeat,” Phillip soothed Chris. He was curious about the effects the drug had. Kirk himself had admitted, after Leonard had his scene, that he did react to drugs in interesting ways. Doctors had hypothesized it was  possibly as a result of the gasses that he had inhaled at his unusual birth. If that was the only effect that birth had, it was a gods-blessed miracle. No one else in written history had a birth like Jim had, on the run from one of the most gods-cursed battles in the history of the legion, barely a quarter of the group making it back, and only because of George Kirk’s, a mere slave’s, heroic sacrifice. It was frankly amazing he’d survived it.

“Good,” Chris said, rolling over and pinning Phillip down. “Because I don’t like mistakes like that.” He smiled as Phillip’s eyes widened and his pupils enlarged. Phillip did like being held down sometimes, and it looked as though Chris had judged the moment perfectly with the way Phillip was already squirming slightly in his hold, getting harder by the second. Fuck, he loved Phillip. And he even admitted it.

In the aftermath of another blissful orgasm, they passed a glass of brandy back and forth. “So do you think we’ll be able to use them in the brothel house set-up? I’m tired of having to purchase slaves back occasionally because their owners are...” Chris paused, trying to think of a delicate way to put it.

“Dumber than a box of rocks due to too many generations of inbreeding starting with their own sheep?” Phillip suggested, his upper-class tones giving the insult a special weight.

Chris laughed delightedly. “Precisely. Although I would have phrased it a bit more politely.”

“That’s because you’re the head of this operation, and I’m just the doctor,” Phillip responded, after sipping slowly from the brandy glass. “I don’t have to be polite since I don’t have to talk to the mule-headed nincompoops.”

“There is that,” Chris laughed. “I’d be almost tempted to send you to have at them, if I didn’t need them to stay happy. Even if we have the best trainees in the world, if no one will buy them...”

“We’re back in the army, or employed by others instead of ourselves,” Phillip finished. All the trainers, even Spock and Nyota, had a stake in the operation. Chris knew it was unorthodox, and he never stated it outright on his paperwork, but since they were trainers, he found it gave them a more fulfilled sense to actually own some of their venture.

“Which would be dreadful for us,” Phillip finished. “After all, the most successful young Captain, deciding to become the most successful young slave-trainer was such a blow to the legions.”

“Not to mention their most valuable doctor deciding to become doctor to slave-trainees,” Chris smiled and rolled over to kiss Phillip, and  put the brandy down on the bedside table, signaling a readiness for a second session. Phillip sighed, laughed and rolled his eyes. Chris forgot sometimes that he was not a young man anymore. But he still could romp through the lust-god’s gardens with some agility.


	11. Chapter 11

“I did what you asked,” Leonard said, as he walked into Chris’ room. They didn’t seem to bother much with offices around here.

“Good, how did he take it?” Chris looked up from his paperwork, gesturing for the stubborn slave to kneel, like most would have the instant they got into their master's chambers.

“I did what you asked, that’s all you need to know.” Leonard didn’t think he was entitled to any more than that information. Besides, how Jim looked?  He almost hated that others would get to share that. He grudgingly got to his knees. Bunch of foolishness. He spent all day on his knees. It had been nice standing for a while.

“Wrong, Leonard.” Chris stood up and strode over to Leonard. It seemed it was time for the young slave to learn some respect. “Everything is my concern, including how your roommate and my slave is doing at their lessons, whether he’ll be valuable or if I should send him away to a different school.”

“He’ll be valuable. Kid’s too stubborn to not be. Just got to stroke him right,” Leonard reported sullenly.

Chris circled around Leonard, watching the flow of the man’s muscles, the language his body was portraying without permission. So full of resentment, and self-hatred...well he’d get over that or not. Some people liked that in their pleasure slaves, that delicate play between what their bodies wanted and the fighting their minds did against it.

“Can I be dismissed?” Leonard asked, uncomfortable with Pike circling him like this.

“Crawl to the bed, and kneel at it’s side,” Pike was in the mood for an object lesson.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Leonard snorted.

“I assure you, Leonard, I am not,” Pike murmured. He pulled a riding crop off his belt. That’s all he’d need. That, his hands, his voice...Leonard would understand with merely those implements. “Now crawl. Before I need to make you.” He would give the slave one more chance. Ah, chance is over. He flicked the crop over Leonard’s shoulders. Once, twice...there Leonard went. Crawling beautifully. Really the man was beautiful. It just took a little cleaning up to see it. He had made yet another correct choice. With just a little taming, his doctor would be a beautiful sex-slave.

Leonard fumed at the humiliating crawl he was forced to endure, the flicks of the crop ‘encouraging’ it. Not that they even hurt. Stung some, but he’d had worse getting bit by snakes when swimming in the pond. He remained kneeling for Pike, and stared up at him, refusing to lower his gaze like a proper slave. Slave he might be, but Pike had purchased him knowing exactly who he was.

Chris debated for a moment how he was going to do this. “Hands on the ground. Do _not_ touch. Open your mouth, boy.” He sat in front of Leonard, and undid his pants. A sting of the crop enforced his words. Leonard’s shoulders were turning beautifully pink.  Leonard’s hesitation earned him another swat, and then the mouth was properly open. Pike threaded his fingers through Leonard’s hair. The boy would demonstrate what he’d been learning. And hopefully, he’d learn again how to behave as a slave instead of as a free man.

Leonard stared at the cock in front of him. Oh he had a feeling he knew what was coming. Another fucking lesson in cock pleasuring with his mouth. He leaned forward, keeping his hands on the ground since that’s what the _Master_ declared he wanted, and took the limp organ into his mouth. If he went fast, he could be done with this stupid lesson in time to go read the treatise Boyce had given him before the kid was back from his lessons.

Once he had Pike hard, things went a little out of Leonard’s control at all. Chris used his hand threaded through Leonard’s hair to hold the boy steady as he started to fuck Leonard’ mouth. The goal after all, wasn’t to show Chris how well he’d digested the lessons in blowjobs. It was to show Leonard who was in charge and Leonard’s face was starting to realise it. Chris wished he could use both hands to fuck Leonard’s face properly but Leonard kept trying to touch, to reach up, to push Chris off, so the other hand had to use the crop to remind Leonard where his hands should be. Really, the doctor should be more disciplined.

Chris abandoned himself to the feeling of Leonard’s hot wet mouth sucking him in so beautifully, gagging on his cock, snot and tears just starting to form, as Chris took away his ability to do anything besides swallow Chris’ cock over and over again, the muted sounds of protest from Leonard only spurring Chris to fuck him harder, faster. He could feel his balls drawing up, almost there. At the last possible second, he pulled out to spray all over Leonard’s fucked out face. Chris watched Leonard’s face turn back from the red it had been expressionlessly, raising the crop, just once when Leonard tried to wipe his face clean. “You’re dismissed, boy. Don’t wash until you’re back in your quarters.”


	12. Chapter 12

Chris stroked his hand down Number One's shapely back, down to her ass and then over it as well. She was so well proportioned. It was no idle boast, calling her Number One. She truly was the most magnificent woman that Chris had ever seen. Even Phillip liked her, and Phillip generally didn't really see the point of females besides for reproduction at all.

He leaned across Number One and kissed Phillip. It had been one glorious evening. Both of his favorites home with him, with no interruptions, so they could reconnect. Number One had been gone for too long on this scouting run. He'd missed having both of them home with him. He knew Phillip had missed her as well. Their arguments could get epic and their chess tournaments were the fiercest that he'd seen, even surpassing young Spock and Jim.

Phillip's kisses were always so sweet. He was very chary with them, not into sharing that many. Each one was a treasure. Phillip pressed against Number one, pressing her tight between the two of them. He didn't want her to go again, although he knew she must. Chris needed her information, her finds, otherwise none of this would ever work and Phillip needed the herbs and oils she brought back for his compounds.

“The Klingon's main prison suffered a jailbreak,” Number One said lazily. “Rura Penthe.”

“Who escaped? Did you hear?” Chris asked, drawing his attention back to her. What would he do without her information? It was important to keep abreast of everything. And Rura Penthe held some of the prisoners who’d participated in that Gods-Cursed battle.

“Unfortunately they haven't released a list,” Number One responded. “And I haven't figured out how to infiltrate the Klingons yet, considering our obvious physiological differences. It's easier to imitate the Vulcans.”

“That's true enough, although we now have Spock if we ever need to do that,” Phillip pointed out.

“Quite right,” Number One agreed, calm as ever. “However in the past it was I who had to infiltrate them when we suspected anything.” She didn’t want her abilities in subterfuge forgotten.

“And you did it with such Vulcan aplomb,” Phillip said blandly. Chris sighed, Those two could go only so long without getting into an argument with each other. It was depressing sometimes, even though he knew they didn't mean to. It was how they related. If it wasn't so annoying it'd be endearing. But sometimes Chris wished he could get through an entire session without them bickering at each other. It would be nice, if impossible. Right now, knowing that whoever might have escaped from the prison could be heading for them, he could use a little less stress and a bit more relaxation between the three of them. He'd be sending both of them out after this to investigate. It had been a long time since he'd had to send his Phillip out to do anything and he was worried.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter contains non-con at the very end.

Chris smiled at the slave at his feet, slave to him in truth as well as in name. Few served him quite as well as the young Spock did. Fewer still wanted to or enjoyed serving him quite as much as Spock.. Chris knew it was all about it being Chris and  not some other person.. Spock would not obey those he did not choose too. He had too much fire, even if it was banked most the time. Spock only really submitted to three people - himself, Nyota, and Number One. Chris knew this, and gloried in the fact he was one of the few. He was very good at skimming the surface of submitting without truly abandoning himself.

He stroked his hand through Spock’s silky hair, enjoying the site of the slave kneeling, seemingly completely relaxed, just anxious to do Chris’ bidding at the least sign of wanting.  “I’m writing your mother, Spock. How should I tell her you fare?”

“Do I still please you, Master Chris?” Spock answered, eyes half closed under the petting. Chris dragged his fingers across Spock's scalp, down to massage his neck lightly, and Spock leaned into it greedily.

“Always, in every way,” Chris responded. “You please me very much.”

“Then I am content,” Spock reported. And Chris knew it was true.  Spock had many faults, and an overly developed sense of honesty was one of the rather regretful ones. He could lie, Chris was sure of it. But he didn’t. He seemed to have discovered early in life that the truth cuts twice as hard as an lie,and used that to his advantage to the point where Chris sometimes wondered if he had forgotten how to lie. Chris also knew Spock would never lie to him. Omit the truth, yes, Spock was quite capable of doing that, but outright lying was not something Spock did lightly.

“Do you require anything?” Chris asked. “Personally, professionally? I’m sending out to the market tomorrow.” He liked to keep Spock happy and Spock asked so little of him, that it gave him a thrill to buy him something whenever he could. And if Spock would actually request something, it made him even happier.

“More tea?” Spock asked hesitantly. He loved a cup of tea in the evenings after his meditations were done. There was something so civilized about that.

“What kind?” Chris asked, stroking a finger over Spock’s ear. Spock shivered at that touch. Chris smirked, his Spock was so sensitive around the ears. And Chris made use of that every chance he got. He liked undoing his boy's cool, calm demeanor.

“Just plain, sir,” Spock said breathily as Chris drew his nail over the tips. “Unless you would approve more of a different kind?”

“Perhaps I would like you to have chai, better,” Chris pulled Spock towards the bed. “Spicy, yet creamy,  different notes...” He slowly took off Spock’s clothing off, piece by piece, and traced kisses along Spock’s body as he did. “Beautiful, complicated. Restrained and yet so wild. Just the hint of sweetness...”

“You are describing yourself,” Spock said, wrapping his arms around Chris. “Strong, complicated, wonderful.” He loved Chris. He made him feel so safe. It was amazing. He was so glad his parents had given him to Chris, to get a better life.

“But not sweet,” Chris said firmly. He was many things, but he had sacrificed 'sweet' years ago. One had to, to become a soldier, then a trainer.

“No, you have me there,” Spock said. “You are not sweet, my master.” Chris smiled, kissing Spock firmly at the admission, and pressed him into the bed, using no restraints but his hands and body. Spock writhed beneath him, playing at struggling but honestly loving where Pike had him.  Chris knew this and was intentionally rough, nipping at Spock’s neck, his shoulders, leaving marks, even bruises. Spock needed to know who was master. It’s what Spock craved more than anything. He willingly subjugated the boy for his own pleasure. Spock cared nothing for his own pleasure in this state, just let Chris take what he wanted and Chris did. They no longer bothered with safewords, not that the safeword would have done good even in the beginning. With him, Spock refused to use it even when he should have.

It made him a most challenging partner, but Chris enjoyed each of his partner's little foibles. Sharpening his observation skills was no bad thing as well. For if Spock would not get himself out when he was overwrought, Chris had to be the one to end their play. It was his responsibility and his pleasure.

He entered Spock after minimal preparation, delighting in the  slight friction, in the gasping moan the slave gave him. Thrusting powerfully he kept Spock on the edge of orgasm for as long as he could hold out. Sweat dripped down in rivulets onto Spock, and Chris was almost surprised they didn’t sizzle. He felt so good, so hot, his inner muscles gripping Chris, trying to force the orgasm before Chris was ready. Spock loved being penetrated by him, by something real. Not toys, not anything carved or inanimate, but real true penetration undid Spock like little else, and Chris was pleased to be the only one allowed to do so.

The door flew open, and before he knew what was happening, Pike was dragged out of Spock, struggling in his naked state. He fought harder when he saw the dirty Romulan stroking Spock. Spock screamed as they penetrated him, as Chrs was finally carried from the room by the masked marauders, screaming, struggling the entire time, trying to break away from the monsters taking him away from his boy, from his facility, from his life.


	14. Chapter 14

“We have to rescue him!” Jim scowled at Spock. “He’s not safe!” And with Boyce out of commission, stubborn old doctor had tried to fight the folks kidnapping Pike. And now there was just the slaves to be in charge of everything. Jim knew Spock was head, but he was second after Spock according to their last meeting with Pike, planning for eventualities. At least now he knew why Pike had been so worried about covering all the bases for if something should happen. He wasn't sure why he was ahead of Nyota except that Chris wanted her to be more behind the scenes, and trusted her investigative talents. What he wouldn't give, what he bet Spock wouldn't give either, to have Number One there to actually be in charge. She wouldn't have the stupid ideas that Spock had, and could actually lead them.

“We must continue with what we are doing. We are no use to him dead,” Spock argued back. “You are not thinking clearly James.

“Damn you.” Jim balled his fist. “I know you have balls. Use them! Nero is able to predict us because we’re acting predictably.”

“He is blessed by some darkness and that is how he is able to predict us, now stand down, Kirk,” Spock ordered firmly.

“I will not stand down. You are making a huge mistake!” Jim exclaimed, as Spock stalked towards him, sleekly catlike. He tried to punch Spock only to lose consciousness.

“Eject him from the city,” Spock said. “We do not need his brand of fire in these dark days.”

~~~

Bones couldn't believe how cold blooded Spock was about the whole thing. He didn't think he could disengage like the bastard was about this whole situation. What in the name of everything holy made you think that sending Jim off into the Gods-blessed fucking Winter was a fucking good idea?”

“Doctor McCoy, you are overwrought by the situation at hand,” Spock said sternly.

“Back home, we don't leave the prize warhorse in the stables when we're heading off to war,” Leonard growled, putting as much of his southern drawl into it as he could.

“Ah, but a war horse must first be broken, or it is not useful, am I correct?” Spock questioned.

“Sure, if you want a horse who only does what you tell it to do expressly,” Leonard snorted. “But you don't want that for Jim anymore than you want that for a real warhorse. Jim needs taming, gentling, not breaking.  If you break him, he won't be Jim anymore. He'll just be another one of the soulless automatons that anyone can turn out.”

“Your opinions are simplistic,” Spock told him. “Jim needs to break to become a team player.”

Bones stared at him and snorted derisively.

“Please, absent yourself to the medical bay, and do what you can for Phillip,” Spock instructed him. “Leave the decisions of what to do now to people who are far more experienced than you.”

Bones snorted again. He'd run war-time clinics that had fewer idiots than this. He'd never thought he'd ever say something like that. Wartime clinics were generally staffed by slaves who's idea of medicine was a club to beat themselves over the head with after drinking themselves stupider. But then he'd been able to run them, not defer to an idiot who thought you threw the baby out with the bathwater. And why hadn't he said something when Jim was getting expelled from the city? He should have, he should have done something, even if he(his) word carried no more weight than anyone else's. If nothing else he could have gotten thrown out with Jim. It wouldn't have improved anything but it would make Bones feel better  about the situation in some weird way.

 

He knew it didn't make  sense, but god dammit, none of this situation made any god damned rational sense anyway. Never would any more, he guessed. At least when Jim was around, he could pretend it made did. Jim could make the sky shining green make sense though. He knew he shouldn't get that attached to the kid. If they weren't both accepted for the brothel, they'd be separated, never to see each other again probably.

It was weird, how much he cared for the brat, that he'd stand up to anyone about it. If they'd both been citizens, he never would have bothered to even take notice of Jim, except maybe to patch him up after a drunken brawl. But both trainee slaves? Jim was his favorite person. Okay, Jim was probably the biggest pain in the ass that Leonard had ever met, especially with his thing about calling Leonard 'Bones', but somehow that was part of his charm. Somehow he turned irritating things into little bits of affectionate teasing, and he was pretty sure Jim had no idea how he changed people, simply by being _Jim_. He was the most annoying shit, and yet half the trainees would follow him into the gates of the netherworld, and Bones would be the first to line up for it.

He had a feeling that was one reason Spock had gotten rid of the bastard. Spock might have the technical know-how of what to do, but he lacked the ingenuity, the charisma, the understanding of humans to get them to follow him without asking stupid questions. Jim was somehow a human gestalt. He increased the intelligence of everyone around him because he simply expected everyone to work on his level. And damned if everyone didn't just live up to Jim's expectations.

He just hoped they could hold on until Jim managed to get back. Because no matter how impossible, how unlikely, how god-damned improbable it was, Jim would be back. Jim would be back and he would save them all if they could just hold on until he could get there. Bones would do his part and keep Phillip and everyone else alive as much as Spock's tactics would let him do so. He owed the brat that much. More really, but Jim would never call it owing him. So Bones would just repay it in ways like this, keeping everything going until Jim made some kind of miraculous return with a plan to save the whole Federation from this mad warlord.


	15. Chapter 15

Jim couldn't believe how fucking cold it was. It felt like his nipples were frozen off and his balls would be following soon after. He'd experienced winters before, he was from an area originally who thought ice storms were minor annoyances, but this was just fucking ridiculous. Jim didn't even really want to think about moving, but he knew if he didn't keep moving, didn't find shelter before night, didn't do _something_ , he'd freeze to death, and he'd never get back to the Federation, to home.

Jim couldn't believe he thought of it as home anymore, but he did. Jim Kirk, who swore that no place was so precious it could be called home, not as long as he was a slave, but the training facility had grown to be that for him. And he needed to save it, to save Master Chris. He couldn't believe the same dude who'd killed his dad and caused him all those problems in life was still running around alive and obviously still cursed with the favor of the dark Gods. Legend had it that his dad had killed him, in the last ditch effort to save everyone. On a scale of things that sucked that ranked pretty high. Almost as high as being in this god-forsaken Arctic Plain. Fucking Spock. At least the bastard had left him enough clothes, even if he did feel like his cock was going to drop off from frostbite. His balls had already retreated as far up into him as they could go. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to coax them out.

 

Oh FUCK that was huge. And it seemed to think it wanted Jim for dinner. One ugly ass monster of legend, that wasn't apparently so legendary. Jim took off running. At least that was fixing the cold problem, although it was exacerbating the fact he had no fucking clue where he was going....shit, there was something even bigger out there, a behemoth  that ate the thing that had been chasing Jim and now seemed to be interested in an after-dinner Jim-mint. Jim had no more intention of being an  eaten, so he just ran faster. Apparently all the physical training Master Chris had demanded was coming in handy for more than just looking good. Not that it didn't help there, because it did. Great! Cave!

 

He veered sharply into the cavern mouth, dodging stalagmites and stalactites. Fuck some of them were huge. Giant teeth ascending and descending from the cavern mouth. The monster just kept chasing him, until something else attacked it with fire. Fire..a person down here? Fuck, they must have a thing for the cold. That would suck. But any port in a storm, and one that would keep the monsters away wasn't one to turn down. Jim moved to say something to the other person in the cave but unfortunately, the day's activities, combined with the fact he still didn't react well to drugs caused him to pass out. Fuck, that was embarrassing way to meet someone.

Jim awoke to someone's warm hands cradling his face and he smiled without opening his eyes. That felt good. Warm hands in the freezing cold of the cave... He slowly worked his eyes open. Huh, a Vulcan. Jim wondered if he was related to Spock. The stranger  looked like Spock, except...kinder. More welcoming and with a certain dignity that Spock didn't have just yet. Honestly Jim'd never met a Vulcan with the same kind of dignity and almost un-repressed sensuality. This Vulcan seemed to have a innate sensuality which Spock never seemed to really have. Spock was a sexy man, he just never seemed to broadcast that innate sexuality.

Jim leaned into the caresses that seemed to know exactly where to touch, and then leaned up to kiss the other man. Jim hadn't had sex in a while, he was horny. The other man's pleased laugh rumbled through the cave, and his tongue probed delightfully into his mouth. Probing fast turned to suckling and everything felt great, felt warm, even though their surroundings were icy cold. The other man's hands were so softly, so warm, even though to look at him he'd be cold and dry, dry like the pages of the books that he looked like he may have lived with.

However the way his hands were expertly removing his clothes revealed this Vulcan did not spend his time amongst dry books. Or at least he didn't only spend his time amongst the words and punctuation that a normal Vulcan would have. His hands were wonderful, against Jim's skin, stroking it just right, as if the other man knew exactly where to touch him, how to hold him, shield him. He hadn't a lover like this since Bones. Bones...fuck, he hoped Bones was okay. He had to get back to the old man. Otherwise who knew what trouble Bones would get himself into.

 

“Jim,” the other man murmured. Jim wondered vaguely how the man knew his name. But he didn't care. “My Jim...” Little creepy but who cared, when the older man was touching him like that. But beggars and choosers and ports and storm and all that rubbish that made getting fucked sound like a fabulous idea.

Fuck, the older man even smelled good in the cave once he'd gotten out of the furs he was wearing. That delicious spicy, woody scent that meant the man knew how to scent himself just right. Jim nuzzled closer to his neck and licked at the pulse point, gasping as the Vulcan pushed his hands over his head and held them there with one strong hand. Mmmmmm. Exactly right. Even Bones couldn't turn him on this well and Bones was the master of making him a desperate, gasping mess of hormones. No one had ever done better than Bones and this dude seemed to want to beat Bones' record. Was working too, held down, the fire turning the half closest to it a toasty warm and the other half chilled with the bite of cold.. The older man kept maneuvering him as he touched Jim, everywhere that felt good, nibbling on his nipples, sucking his wrist, never resting in one place but moving around Jim's body, playing it like a well tuned lute. It was glorious and really fucking hot.

Jim was begging by the time the other man started to push his legs forward and the other man ducked his head to lick up his cock, playing with his balls.

“Keep your hands where they are, Jim-t'hy'la. Don't touch.”

Jim moaned at that and grabbed a rock to keep himself steady as the man's tongue proved to be every bit as magnificent as the rest of him. Fuck, the old boy knew exactly how to make a man groan like a virgin during his first blow job. Jim loved it. He loved the warmth, the fact it felt like the other man really wanted to be doing this. He wondered how the old man was able to know him so well. Even Master Pike had had to fuck him a few times to figure him out this well.

It was amazing. There really wasn't any other way to describe how this felt to Jim. He moaned wantonly as the man massaged his balls, licking him, sucking him, swallowing him just the way Jim liked it. The guy was blow-job master, curling his finger just behind his balls rubbing his perineum. The only part that sucked was when he squeezed Jim's cock to make him not come. Jim needed to come so bad, but it appeared this was one of those guys who got off on not letting someone get off until he decided it was time. Bones got like that sometimes, and Jim found it hot as fuck every time he did.

This guy apparently took preparedness up to a whole new level as he sat up and pulled some lubricant out of a pocket, preparing Jim just the amount he liked, not too loose but not so much it hurt. He slid his fucking awesome cock into Jim and Jim pushed down against it. Or tried anyway. The other man held his hips steady so he couldn't so much as twitch. If it weren't for the man's hand preventing him from coming right then and there he would. The guy knew ALL his kinks.

Reducing Jim to mewling, begging for his orgasm, the man fucked him hard, fucked him into the furs beneath Jim's body, causing all sorts of lovely friction until Jim was screaming and then the man stuck some cloth in Jim's mouth and kept going, until he was satisfied. Jim finally was allowed to orgasm and he hadn't had one that powerful in a long time, it literally drove him unconscious.

When he woke up the other man was holding him lightly, and smiling down on him.

“Who are you?” Jim managed to get out, after a long time of just laying there and snuggling with him.

“I am Spock,” the other man said.

“Bullshit,” Jim responded. “Spock doesn't fuck people. And he doesn't fuck people like that..

“Perhaps it is more accurate to say, I am a Spock from the future,” the old Vulcan said. “I come from far in your future, on the heels of the Warlord Nero.”

And the old man spun him a fantastic tale of magic, and science and the perils of mixing both, of destruction and vengeance. And at the end, finding out he's supposed to be doing what Spock's doing right now? Vindication. He knew he was better than Spock. But he needed to get back. The old Spock said he had an idea on how to effect that, but they'd have to go out in the cold again to do it. Jim wasn't fond of the idea but he personally didn't see any other way to get back to the main city in time to do anything. They needed to rescue Chris.

Finding the mad Scotsman was amazing. Jim had tried out all of his sex toys at one time or another. They were awesome,  sometimes scary but innovative to the extreme. Finding he'd been working on devices for faster than horse travel....they'd get home in hours, instead of days. Leaving the old Spock was a wrench though. He wanted to introduce him to Bones, but apparently universe shattering paradoxes would happen if the awesome Spock and regular Spock met. He was still taking Scotty.


	16. Chapter 16

It was dark times, for their society. The conqueror Nero had taken over their city. Spock’s ancestral village had been decimated before they came for the city itself. Amanda’s training center, as well as Komac’s had been shut down. Anyone who would teach slaves anything that would lead to subversive activities were was shut down. But Nero did not understand what Pike taught and that was a boon for the civilization. After all, how could harmless sex-slaves ever prove to be a problem. As well, his and Gaila’s, the only other training centre allowed to remain open were small, were filled with slaves who knew nothing but the pleasures of the flesh. Pleasure of the flesh were just what the conquering Nero wanted his new populace to be concerned with. They wouldn’t notice entire families disappearing in the night, so they wouldn’t communicated rebellious thoughts to each other if they were more concerned with sex than anything else,. However, just to be sure that Pike’s training facility didn’t get any bright ideas, he took Pike captive. Pike was a valuable hostage after all. He knew the ways of the legion, as well as secrets of the citizens of the Federation.

“We have to rescue him,” Jim chafed at Spock’s commands to remain as they were.

“How do you suggest doing that? His army overwhelms us. Better to wait for the legions to amass and rescue us,” Spock pointed out

“If we wait for the legions to amass, we’ll all be dead,” Jim pointed out.

“That is what Pike told us to do,” Spock responded.

“If we wait, Pike will die!” Jim nearly vibrated with rage. Nero had stolen their leader, their Master. Who knew what he was doing to Pike. “You know what he’s capable of, what he did before, when he was younger. He’s had twenty YEARS to plot to take over the Federation now.”

“You allow your emotions to run away from you, James,” Spock scolded. “We must go about these things rationally. You are overly emotional.” Jim wanted to show the emotionally constipated ass just what over emotional meant but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“You don’t even care that your father lost his homeland to this guy, that your own mother was executed,” Jim said cruelly. Jim  almost hated himself for pushing Spock like that but the old Spock had pointed out there would be no shaking him from the position Spock  held until he was forced to confront the truth. That there would be no returning to the old ways when Nero was ousted. That irreparable harm had already come, that logic would not fix this problem. The time for action was fast approaching.

“Get out,” Spock bit out harshly. “Do not  presume to understand what that meant to me.”

“You don’t even show it. Have you mourned for her? For your people?” Jim continued to bait the other man. Something had to get through to the asshole. Something, anything to make him react, to admit that holding back everything was not working anymore. If he could just get Spock to agree, or to step aside in favor of him leading, he could rally everyone else. Even Nyota, who while she admitted he was an awesome lover, still doubted his ability to plan his way out of a box.

He knew Bones wouldn’t approve of this tactic which is why he hadn’t discussed it with him before doing it. It’d either work or he’d wind up dead from Spock having one of his rare berserk modes. If it was the other, he didn’t want Bones to get hurt in the aftermath.

“You don't know what I feel,” Spock came at him threateningly. Jim just kept prodding at Spock, trying to go for as many weak spots in his psyche as he possibly could. It wasn't hard. Spock was so held in most the time.  He never had learned to take it. He got angrier and angrier until he snapped, like he was going crazy,  his hands went around  Jim’s neck. Fuck Spock had a lot of strength in his hands. Jim wasn’t able to breathe, wasn't sure if he ever would breathe again.

“Spock!” Sarek barked. Spock's hands released Jim's neck slowly, reluctantly. It seemed like Spock would like to continue to strangle him. Jim rubbed his neck.

“I...am too close to the situation, I must resign control for the moment,” Spock said, disturbed by what Jim had brought him to, what he had lost control of himself enough to do.

“Great, now we have no one,” Nyota groused.

“Master Chris said if anything happened to Spock, that Jim was in command,” Sulu revealed.

“I hope you know what you're doing.” Nyota glared at him.

“”So do I.” Jim sat back, and started to seriously figure out what was going to happen now that he had control. This was almost frightening if he let himself think about it. What was Bones going to say? He could do this, he knew he could do this. And they would rescue Master Chris, and save the Federation. If nothing else, he owed it to his dad to succeed.

“Alright, here's what we're going to do...” Jim said, as they gathered around.

~~~

Jim sat at the front desk of their Enterprise, the brothel Chris had worked so hard to create. Not staffed fully the way Master Chris would have liked it, but they needed it up and running if they were going to orchestrate a full-scale rebellion. As many of Master Chris’ old trainees were retrieved from their former service for the duration of this issue as wouldn’t leave them reasonably without contacts within the former upper class.. Some masters had outright donated them, others had been brought to see reason. It really hadn’t taken much. So now Jim sat at the head of a spy network that was almost untraceable, at least to the Romulan commander now seated as their head of state He hoped he could pull this off.

No, that kind of talk was for defeatist. He _knew_ he would pull this off. There wasn’t any other option. They would release their city and do what his dad had failed to accomplish -get rid of Nero once and for all so they’d never have to deal with this again. Maybe even prove to Master Chris that he was the one who should be in charge of Enterprise, like he wanted.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Nyota commented dourly.

“Me too,” Jim said, letting her see the slight uncertainty he was feeling before switching into business mode. “Do you have today’s reports?”

“You need a secretary for this,” Nyota responded, dumping loads of paper on his desk.

“Find me one that would fit with our group and I’ll use one,” Jim shot back. He didn’t have time to find a secretary who wouldn’t be shocked, horrified, disgusted or distracted by what went on with the Enterprise. After all, if they wanted to maintain their disguise as a highly skilled brothel, they did need to have sex with clients. Some of those clients may very well be spies so everything needed to be consistent with a proper brothel. Meaning clothing was very much optional for enhancement rather than concealing what lay under, sex would be abundant, and aphrodisiacs  served for the main course as well as side courses of all dinners, suppers, breakfasts. It was   what they ate in public. In private, of course, they ate far more varied stuff. But there wasn’t an 'in private at the moment.

“I have just the woman,” Nyota said. “She trained with Mistress Amanda before...” Before Amanda was killed by Nero, Jim assumed.

“Good enough,” Jim nodded. “Who is she? When can she get here?” Jim was already going through the coded paperwork that Nyota had set on his desk. All his spies sent what was happening, who was where, who was imprisoned, all in various codes. All the information he needed to know before they could rebel. They were slowly siphoning Admiral Komac’s trainees into their organization, posing as stripper types. They had the musculature for it at least, even if they didn’t have much skill.  But then Jim was expecting too much from them. Just because any of Master Chris’ slaves could strip to a kazoo didn’t make it a universal skill.

“Already here,” Nyota opened the door and motioned someone in. Jim looked her over, long and steady. It wasn’t a hard job, Nyota had good taste in women. Long blond hair, big blue eyes, a certain sass to her stance, good sized boobs, and really nice ass. Trained by Amanda she’d be extremely organized, perfect penmanship, knowledge in the classics that were used in the codes Jim had devised, and probably able to create new ones at the drop of a hat. She’d do.

“She been checked out by Bones?” Jim directed his comment to Nyota.

“And underwent stylization,” Nyota nodded.

“She’s not going to be one of us,” Jim said, frowning thoughtfully. He still had nightmares about his own experience with the stylists. He knew Bones and Dr. Boyce had worked to reform the system since then but it was still something Jim hated.

“She has a name,” the secretary interrupted. “Janice. Janice Rand. And the better I match your masquerade the more successful we’re likely to be.” Jim smiled. Good, the woman had sass. She’d need it, with their crew.

“True enough, but you’re not going to be sexing anyone up,” Jim said. “You’re not trained for it.”

“Already understood,” Janice said just as briskly business-like. “So why don’t you show me how deeply buried under paperwork you are, and I’ll help bail you out of it.”

“If you could handle scheduling, supplies, and medical stuff, I can get to the other business,” Jim suggested, and dumped about half the paperwork on a nearby desk.

That would leave him time to decode all the spy reports and update any agents that needed it. Running a rebellion seemed to require more paperwork than running a brothel and most of it then had to be destroyed. It was kind of amazing. Luckily between him and Spock they remembered absolutely everything. Jim didn't quite have a photographic memory but it was close. Spock's was even better than his but it focused on certain aspects of life, most notably what their clients required, and who they preferred. Jim tried to have a more broad intelligence. But it worked, delegating some of the work to Spock. He was, after all, more experienced and knowledgeable in basic brothel and sex-slave endeavors.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter contains dub-con.

Jim couldn’t believe his luck. Nero’s second in command had come to them, and requested their services. Pillow talk could ruin Nero, and it hopefully would. He knew it would be dangerous, knew that the Romulans had a reputation for roughness in all things. They were not the refined people of the Federation. Crude, rude, miner types, the sort that rarely came into contact with anyone as sublime as  they were. Normally he wouldn’t ever even think twice about denying any of his slaves access to a paying customer but this wasn’t normal times and Ayel was not a normal miner.

Taking his time, making sure his appearance was as fine as he could make it, Jim had to admit a certain amount of nervousness. Bones was seething, he knew that. Hadn’t talked to Jim since he made the appointment in his own name yesterday. Well, hadn't said much beyond pointing out how many of their coworkers wound up under his and Phillip’s care after encounters with the Romulans and how long it took them on average to recover. But Jim was willing to take the risk if it brought them the information he needed. If they found out whether they needed to rescue Master Chris or avenge him... Bones understood, he knew Bones did.

The rest of his crew had been no happier, pointing out any of them could take it. Jim was the mastermind of their rebellion, why he put himself at risk was beyond them. But Jim wouldn’t, couldn’t ask any of them to take this risk if he couldn’t. It was cowardly, and Jim wasn’t a coward.

He moved around the room, adrenaline starting to flow, as he checked over the scene. The best sheets, duvet folded back against the footboard, all in shades of gold and black. Jim knew he looked good in those colors and the room was meant to accentuate him. He lit the candles, all of exotic and erotic musks, made sure the oils and the closet of toys were ready. He had conceded to the others and removed anything that could draw blood in great quantities. After all, this was supposed to be a high class, erotic thrill ride of a brothel, not a Mom and pop joint down the block.

The point was, Ayel came to _them_ , knowing they were the best. And if they didn’t show they were the best, the most erotic, the most _sensual_ of brothels, then their plan would fall apart, they would be sunk and Nero would be their overlord for the rest of their very short lives. Short, because Nero would probably have them all killed, turned out of the city or put to working quarries or any number of fates Jim had worked so hard to get out of in the first place, that lead to the earliest of early graves.

A throat clearing interrupted Jim’s train of thought, and Jim turned around slowly, positioning himself at his best angle. He knew he looked good.  Hikaru had helped oil him up, his hair caught the flames well, turning his dark blond hair more golden, his eyes more sensual. He smiled at the other man.

The miner wasn’t actually bad looking. The tattoos all over his body added a certain mystery to him and he wasn’t all hunched over like some miners. Mentally, he was still nervous. This encounter could make or break their rebellion. "Ayel, I presume?"

“Yes,” Ayel said, his voice carrying the accent of his homeland. Jim liked it. Ayel had a no-nonsense way about him, suggesting he had no time for fools who stated the obvious. Jim could go with that. He would wait until Ayel was strung out on orgasms to make pillow talk.

“Would you like something to eat? Drink?” Jim offered, gesturing to small menu, the calligraphy perfect Romulan. Spock had a beautiful hand  for that kind of thing. Of course all the food Ayel ate would be drug free. What if he demanded Jim to taste it first?

“No,” Ayel said, discarding his clothing as he walked toward the bed. Gross, coarse, miner clothing, all leather and tough fabrics. They stank vaguely of stuff Jim didn't want to identify because he recognized some of the notes. He, had never mined a day before in his life but he had been in fights, been drunk enough to puke, and other things that left a permanent stain like the ones in Ayel’s clothing. He had an easy time picturing the Romulan doing things to make others feel that way.

He watched warily as the Romulan strode forward, toward him. If possible he’d rather they conduct this out of touching distance, but as the Romulan’s hands closed about him, he Jim knew that wasn’t a possibility. He let out an "oof" as Ayel shoved him roughly to the bed, he knew this was going to be a rough session, far rougher than he liked.

He was right too, The Romulan started by tying him up, smacking him all over, leaving bruises that wouldn’t heal overnight, that would leave him out of commission for days. Oh gods, Bones would have things to say about that. He tried to struggle, which only seemed to inflame the Romulan more. Fuck, if this was how he treated him before there was sex, he couldn’t imagine what it’d feel with Ayel entering him. He'd hurt like he hadn’t in a very long time, since before he joined Pike’s training academy. If this disfigured him...

“If you disfigure or injure me, you’re going to get charged,” Jim’s hand flew to his throat as Ayel closed his hands around it. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t say anything.

“Silence,” Ayel told Jim as Jim’s vision started to grey out. He couldn’t breath, barely could move. Finally, when he had almost passed out, his cock had embarrassingly released itself. Fuck this was not good.

And the rest of the sex didn’t get any better. Jim was pretty sure the other’s rough entrance into him tore something. He could feel the blood leaking down his legs. Bones was going to have a fit.

But the after-orgasm pillow talk was worth every single look of reproach Bones was going to give him. He found out where they were holding Master Chris and that he was alive. That was all that was important. They could rescue him. It’d take a very small force, but they could do it. Pike was within their grasp, they just needed to get him. And fast, before the information was bad.

That night, if possible.


	18. Chapter 18

“Okay, so if there’s any common sense in the design of the enemy camp, you should wind up in the supply housing,” Scotty said as he locked them into the supply wagon. Jim made himself as comfortable as he could amidst the produce items, and meats. Jim had just watched as Spock and Nyota had said goodbye. Bones was too busy trying to take care of Boyce to come down for their own farewell. Not thatit would have been as interesting as Spock and the Uhura, who he now knew was named Nyota.

“So her name’s Nyota?”  Jim asked curiously. “Mistress Nyota Uhura...I like it.” The name suited her. Elegant, and just rolled off the tongue.

“I have no comment on the matter,” Spock said as the wagon bounced along until it finally stilled. They waited a few moments then carefully got out, to find themselves surrounded by Romulans.This seemed far too busy to be any sort of supply housing. It looked more like their main training area.All the Romulans were carrying very large, very scary weapons. This was bad. Not as bad as it could have been if they didn’t have Scotty’s specially designed weaponry, made to be concealed anywhere. Scotty hated perverting his ability to design stuff from the sleekly sexual to the cumbersome inelegant weaponry.

“So, we can rule out any common sense in the design,” Jim said, as they moved into position guarding each other’s backs. Up close the Romulans were skilled at hand-to-hand, and almost as worse, farther away they weren’t shabby shots with arrows. Not to mention Jim was not moving at optimum agility due to Ayel’s idea of love making. He was attempting to hide this fact from Spock.

They made use of the surrounding cover as they tried to get closer to the dark gods red matter that was enabling the Romulans to maintain their wave of terror over the Federation. Between what Ayel had revealed and the old Sage had said, it should be in the building just up ahead. “C’mon, we need to get up there.”

“I am following you,” Spock retorted as they ducked and ran, and ran and ducked, occasionally get stopped and having to kill a Romulan. They were hard to kill. This was the first time Jim had actually killed anyone for real. It...wasn’t very nice. He hoped he never had to use this part of his training ever again. But if he did, at least he knew he could do it.

“Okay,” Jim said, once they reached the red matter. “You take care of this, I’m going to get Master Pike.”

“Jim,” Spock grabbed his arm. “If I don’t make it...”

“You’re going to make it,” Jim told him. “So save your stirring last speech for sometime when it _is_ your last speech.”

“But if I don’t,” Spock said, holding him in place. It was so easy to forget how really strong Spock really was, when usually you saw him kneeling at Pike or Uhura...Nyota’s feet. “Tell Nyota....”

“I’ll tell her,” Jim said firmly. “Same for Bones.”

“Of course,” Spock said, releasing him and turning to dispose of the red matter. He knew exactly what would need to happen, once Jim had told him what the old Sage. would do. “Go get Master Pike, but only if it will not endanger the rest of us.”

“I know, Spock,” Jim said. He’d get Master Pike regardless. He owed the man his life, his everything really. So if it was within his power, he was going to rescue the man no matter what he cost. No matter what it took, if Pike was alive he was bringing the man. Spock knew that, knew what he owed the man. Spock owed him just as much anyway. They would both be nothing without Pike.

Right now, that meant trying to sneak around as much as he could. Romulans, amongst other idiosyncratic traits, were bald or had very dark hair. Hardly something that matched his own coloring. But he was doing okay, only having to fight here and there.

He finally made his way over to Pike, who was tied down onto some kind of torture device. It looked scarier than anything Scotty had come up with for sex, a genuine not-for-pleasure in any way device. Jim hated the look of it.

“I'll get you out, Sir,” Jim murmured to Master Chris.

“You shouldn't have come,” Pike said reprovingly. He seemed worn out, tired, in a way Jim had never seen him, pale and worn.

“Probably not, but I did anyway.” Jim was fully willing to admit he probably shouldn't have come, but that didn't change anything. “Spock is destroying their red matter.”

“Good,” Pike said, then grabbed one of his knives and threw it at the Romulan who was sneaking up on Jim. It hit and the Romulan went down.

Jim scowled as he realised they were being chased back to the brothel by none other than Nero, the leader of the Romulans who had caused so much pain through the years for them all.

“You're done, Nero,” Jim said, as he shifted some more support of Chris over to Spock. “You can surrender now, and wait to be arrested.”

“What are you doing, Jim?” Spock demanded.

“Trying the pacifist route,” Jim responded. “I thought you'd like it.”

“I find I do not,” Spock responded.

“Surrender? Never,” Nero screamed, making a mad rush for the three of them. Jim threw his last remaining knife at him, and watched as it hit exactly in the romulan’s black heart, watched as Nero fell over, cursing the entire time, until he finally remained still, lifeless.

Jim sighed softly. “Let's get you to Bones,Sir.”


	19. Chapter 19

Jim knew he had to report for health care soon or Bones would be after his ass, and not in the very fun way Bones normally went after his ass, ut he had been summoned before the ruling council. He’d been examined, cross examined, and talked himself voiceless…twice. They’d given him breaks to regain his voice but he was still kind of hoarse.

“After much deliberation we have decided you have earned your freedom, Jim Kirk,” Admiral Kormak declared. “For services to the Federation.”

Jim was elated by this but…”Excusing your honors, but…I’d rather someone else be freed in my place.” Jim had been a slave for his whole life.

“Who?” Kormak asked.

“Leonard McCoy.” Jim hoped his friend appreciated this. He’d free himself some other time.

 

Bones scowled at Jim, barely able to talk to him through the rage. “You did all of that, went through all of that, and then made a decision for me, while in this condition?”

“I thought you’d be happy, to be free,” Jim said hesitantly.

“I’m going to figure that was your concussion doing your thinking for you,” Bones said firmly as he started examining Jim,washing him slowly off. Jim was covered in blood and other bodily fluids.  Bones was purposely avoiding thinking about what Jim was covered in.

“Go ahead, Leonard McCoy,” Jim said, grinning. “So what are you going to do now that you’re free?”

“Patch up your ass,” Bones grumbled. “That should take the rest of the week. After that, we’re having a long talk about what is appropriate to give people, and what you’re going to learn to ask permission for first.”

“You’re not happy?” Jim felt the first stirrings of worry deep in him. What if Bones really was angry at him? He’d tried to do what was right, think of Bones first in some other concept than sex. Did he fuck it up for him?

Bones sighed and leaned down to kiss Jim, slow and sweet as a night on the porch swing back home. A home he was no longer fit for, Bones knew that.  He may have his freedom. but there was no way he could return to who he used to be, what he used to do. But he was fit for this life now and it didn't scare him anymore.

Jim leaned up and wrapped his arms around Bones’ shoulders with a wince. Bones noticed the wince and gently pushed him back down. “No moving until I have you patched up, kid. Otherwise I may never get your ass back in working order. All your clients will cry at me if that happens.”

“Not to mention I would too,” Jim said. “After all, you can’t use me if my ass isn’t in working order.”

“Am I going to have to buy you whenever I want you?” Bones questioned.

“I could see about negotiating you a discount,” Jim waggled his eyebrows, starting the  cut right across one of them bleeding all over again.

“Can’t you ever follow orders, Jim?” Bones sighed, as he pressed his hand over Jim’s face. “Healing first, flirting later.” They’d have to redefine their boundaries, now that Jim was a slave and Bones wasn’t. This could get complicated. Bones didn’t relish the thought of it, to be honest, but for now he needed to take care of Jim, since Jim was too gods-be-damned stubborn to take care of his own self.

“Not likely,” Jim said flippantly. “That’s what I have you for isn’t it?” He did still have Bones, right? That wouldn’t change, even though Bones was now a free man again.

Bones leaned down and kissed Jim softly. “That’s not going to change, menace.” He let the kiss linger, finally pulling back, sighing softly at Jim. “You're too much trouble to leave on your own.” He stroked his hand through Jim's hair gently. Jim pressed against the hand, not moving the rest of his body, finally obeying Bones' orders. Or too tired to do more than that, which would make sense after everything he'd been through, then staying up to make sure Pike was taken care of.

“You're going to be flat on your back for a while, Jim,” Bones said, as he continued to check Jim over. “Honestly I'm surprised you don't have any internal bleeding. As it is, you've got fractures in your legs, a couple cracked ribs, you fucked your ass up good and didn't come to me, so I'm astounded you don't have an infection in that...”

“It's my special luck,” Jim said.

“And you screwed up that throat of yours something fierce when you got your dumb ass strangled,” Bones said, pointing to it with a scowl. “You're not going to indulge in that stupid kink on a regular basis, are you?”

“No, that once was more than enough,” Jim responded. If it hadn't been for what he could get out of it, he'd never have indulged in the first place. He might be a "try anything once" kind of guy but even he knew when certain things were too damned foolish to experiment with. “So if I'm confined to bed rest, does that mean you're going to spend it with me? I might wander off in my pain crazed haze...”

“I doubt that, kid,” Bones said. “We do live in a brothel, enough of those bondage things around to keep you nice and safe. And don't roll your eyes at me. Do you really want me to go into what will happen if you don't give yourself a rest?”

“Considering how graphic you get, Bones,” Jim snorted and held out his arms once Bones had wrapped him up like a mummy..

“Infant,” Bones rolled his eyes, took off his shoes, and crawled into bed to curl up next to Jim, kissing his ear. Jim sighed and curled closer, as much as his own bruises would let him. Now Jim could finally let himself rest. It was done.


	20. Chapter 20

Jim opened the door from the hidden back bedrooms into the front area of the Enterprise. His brothel now.  The most infamous brothel in all of the Federation now.. Once Master Chris recovered he would continue to train slaves, but it was up to Jim to lead it. Jim had managed to get the crew he wanted. Well, most of them. His gaze purposely did not stray towards where Spock should be standing, draped next to Nyota.

He did grin as he walked forward. “Bones. Ready for the show?” Bones rolled his eyes at him, and a softly warm glow filled him. Things worked out okay there. Bones was staying with them as their on-site medic even  though he was a free man again. Said Jim would get into too much trouble without him. Jim acted like he had no clue what Bones was talking about.

His gaze traveled slowly over every member of his rather unique crew.

There was Janice, sitting at the sign-in desk, ready to keep all the supplies necessary for their brothel, help Jim keep the schedules straight. She’d been offered a chance to go back to being just a scribe but the wise woman had decided to stick with Jim’s crew.  She was even taking classes in their sexual work, as well as in fighting, to act as a secondary bouncer. She claimed the classes were to better understand them and the business she was now employed in. Jim thought she was just as horny as any other human being and wanted to know every way to get off there was. She’d never say that, she was too proper. But Jim knew.

Sulu and Chekov waited patiently by the door, waiting to open it, let through the first clients of the day. They’d proven to be a surprisingly amazing team up, Jim had started scheduling all their work together. He wasn’t about to mess up a duo like that. They were gorgeous, all light and dark, perfect contrasts. Sulu’s more cultured air next to Chekov’s puppy eagerness, all knees and elbows and excitement.

Nyota was just as beautiful and slightly intimidating as ever. She had picked herself up, realised Spock wasn’t coming, and was still the most dominating woman of the crew. She was pure dark sensuality and Jim loved it. He’d been afraid she wouldn’t join them, without Spock. But she was here and Jim wouldn’t have anyone else in her position.

Scotty was down in the crafting area, once again creating devices of pure delight, rather than modifying them into weaponry and Jim was sure he was happier doing that.

Taking his own place sprawled indolently in the chair in the middle of the room, Jim was about to order Chekov and Sulu to open the doors when the back door opened once more.

“Spock,” Jim said, caught somewhere between wariness and hopefulness.

“As you have not picked someone to be head of Submissives, I submit myself for the position,” Spock said after nodding his head in greeting. “If you wish, I can supply character references.”

“The position is yours.” Jim grinned as everything fell into place. This was going to work. Spock strolled over to kneel at Nyota’s feet and Jim saw her press her hand into his hair gently. Spock relaxed under her touch and Jim smiled at that.

“Mr Sulu, thrusting on full,” Jim said jokingly.

“All thrusting is ready, sir,” Sulu responded soberly as he and Chekov opened the doors for the firs official day of service to their Federation.

These are the adventures of the denizens of the brothel called the Enterprise. Her mission: to explore strange new kinks, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly come where no one has come before.


End file.
